


(at a time)

by Id_flyifihad_wings



Series: A Way Out [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Monsters, Anger Management, Angst, Angst and Feels, Azazel Not Being An Asshole, Benny Lafitte & Dean Winchester Friendship, Dean Winchester Does Not Deal With Things, Dean Winchester Does Not Listen to Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Has Anger Issues, Dean Winchester Hates Himself, Dean Winchester Likes People, Dean Winchester Needs Help, Dean Winchester Needs Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Not Homophobic, Dean Winchester is Not Okay, Depressed Dean Winchester, Developing Friendships, Diary/Journal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Good Parents John Winchester and Mary Winchester, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, How else can I say Dean Winchester is just not over Cas’s death, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Isolating Yourself, John Winchester Not Being an Asshole, John Winchester is Not Homophobic, Learning to live again, M/M, Medicine, Minor John Winchester/Mary Winchester, Mostly Friendships Not Relationships, Not Really Everyone, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Overcoming Grief, POV Dean Winchester, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Quote: Family Don't End With Blood (Supernatural), Recovering Alcoholic Dean Winchester, References to Addiction, References to Depression, Relationship Problems, Self-Blaming Dean Winchester, Self-Hatred, Self-Worth Issues, Story within a Story, Strained Friendships, Therapy, Unrequited Crowley (Supernatural)/Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, writing as therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25694431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Id_flyifihad_wings/pseuds/Id_flyifihad_wings
Summary: It’s been over four years since Dean saw Castiel take his last step off that ledge. Now a sophomore in college, he’s finally worked up the courage to read Cas’s journal.Along the way, Dean discovers things he never thought he’d find and learns some new things about himself that he didn’t want to uncover.(UPDATES EVERY OTHER WEEK)
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Everyone, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Series: A Way Out [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863286
Comments: 16
Kudos: 12





	1. August 24th, 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized is Dean’s writing
> 
> It’s been two years since I’ve looked at this fic, but it didn’t feel quite finished to me. So, here we go! I hope you guys enjoy this journey with me.
> 
> EDIT: TW - referenced past character death, referenced past child abuse but it’s mild

_It’s_ _finally the start of the school year. I’m a sophomore. I’m looking forward to the classes, but not the work. Strange to think being a mechanic was my biggest dream. I’m studying to be an engineer now. You’d be proud of me, Cas. Right?  
_

_I mean, I finally told my parents I didn’t want to be a doctor. And you were right. They were understanding. It’s weird to think you knew my parents better than I did.  
_

_It’s been over four years since I’ve seen you. Sometimes I still get nightmares about you jumping. It’s terrifying, honestly, and I wish I could escape those dreams._

_Would it piss you off to know I’m still friends with Benny? I’m friends with Azazel now, too. All three of us go to college together._

_I also met these other guys. One is studying to be an engineer, too. His name is Ash. The dude is still rocking a mullet, but he’s actually really smart. Like, insanely smart. I think he’ll probably graduate early._

_The other guy is named Crowley. He’s British and kind of a bastard, but in a good way. He’s studying to be a lawyer, like Sam. He’s a year ahead of me, Ash, and Benny, but he’s a nice guy. He helps us out on our work when we need it. Apparently he also skipped out on one of his requirements, because we have a class together. That’s how we met._

_Azazel is majoring in child psychology. Everything his dad did, I guess helped him realize he wants to help people like him. And like you.  
  
I wish I could’ve helped you in time, Cas. Maybe if we’d met a little earlier or if I’d pulled you out of that house sooner.   
_

_I go to therapy now. Have been for the past three years. My therapist tells me I need to stop blaming myself. But it’s damn hard to do that when I was there and I could’ve helped.  
  
He says I could only help if you wanted help. Which - I don’t know - I guess you didn’t.   
_

_I still keep in touch with your mom, Amelia, and your dad, Chuck. Your mom got a job as a receptionist at Chuck’s hospital, actually. She said the pay isn’t the best, but since she’s trying to take online college classes at the same time, it’s for the best. She’s trying really hard, Cas. You would be so proud of her._

_As for Chuck, well, he’s still my doctor. He prescribed me my antidepressants. And they help, mostly. Some days it gets especially bad, but I’ve got Benny now to help me.  
_

_The first year was the hardest. We had your funeral a month after everything, since your mom was trying to get all the funds together to afford everything. Chuck ended up paying for a bunch of it, which was really sweet of him. Sam slept in my bed with me for a week. I guess he was too afraid to be alone, too. Or maybe he was too afraid to leave me alone, I’m not sure.  
_

_A lot of people were there. Including Benny and Azazel. Azazel came without his father knowing, and he was sobbing like a little girl, Cas. I mean, I was too, but you get the idea. We all were, I think. And he hugged me. Azazel hugged me like I was the last person in the world and he hadn’t seen anyone for months. For him, maybe I was._

_And Benny did too. It was like I was the only anchor left to you, I guess. The closest they could get to apologizing to you was through me. And I got a lot of apologies from them.  
_

_We didn’t even let Sam come. Mom stayed home with him and dad took me and didn’t let me see him cry even though I knew he was. And your mom was hugging me too, thanking me for helping you even though you were about to be put six feet under. That just made me feel worse._

_Anyway, it’s been a long time. And I’m only writing now because I finally cracked open that journal you always carried around. Yesterday, actually.  
_

_Your handwriting was as messy as I remembered it being. And I was so happy to see it that I cried for a few hours. Thankfully it was a Sunday, so I didn’t have to worry about my classes. I decided I’m gonna read one entry a day, kind of like how I’ll try to write one of these everyday. I’m not sure how close I’ll stick to that schedule, though. I’m not the best at keeping those anymore.  
_

_First day was fine. The first day is always the worst. I mean, we’ve only been back for a week, but I’m still already so worried about finals. With all this crazy crap going on in the world right now, it’s hard to think anything will ever go back to normal again. My mom and dad have been sleeping every chance they get, since the hospitals have been so packed.  
_

_But, the second week is going better. I’m only one day in, but I don’t think it’s too bad. I mean, Crowley is pretty funny and Ash and I have three classes together. Benny and I don’t have any classes together this semester, but I do have one class with Azazel.  
_

_My schedule is pretty full. I’m taking 20 semester hours, which is four classes with four semester hours, two classes with two, and a three hour long lab. It’s weird to me that the labs don’t have hours attached to them, but I don’t make the rules. The hardest class is definitely the science class I’m required to take, and the lab that comes with it. The teacher moves through the material really fast, and kind of expects us to already know what he’s talking about. I feel stupid asking questions, but other people ask too._

_Overall though, my classes are pretty good. I ended up trying out for the local baseball team too, but I don’t think I made the cut. The coach said he would call. It’s getting kind of late. I should get my homework done and head to bed. I have eight a.m. classes every day.  
_

_Night, Cas. And thanks for writing about me.  
_

_~~~~~~~~~~  
_

Dean closed the journal with a heavy sigh and placed them both in his desk. As much as he trusted Benny, he still didn’t want the other guy going through his head. Or Cas’s, for that matter. He didn’t have much homework, so he was done in a few minutes. 

He checked his phone to see a text from Ash in the group chat, and a separate text from Crowley. 

**MulletKing: It’s time for the boys to hang out. There’s a party this weekend if any of y’all are interested**

**KingofHell: Dean, please tell me you don’t plan to go to this party.**

Dean chuckled at the two, before typing out a reply.

**Deanmon: i think not ash...maybe next time**

Setting his phone on the desk, he stood to stretch out his back and change into pajamas. It was actually getting pretty late, and he was exhausted. A three-hour lab on Monday was the worst.

He quickly changed and brushed his teeth in the bathroom that he shared with three other guys, locked his door and fell into bed. He plugged his phone in and set an alarm for seven the next morning, yawning as he settled in to sleep.

So, maybe his friends were kind of a bad influence on him. He didn’t really mind. He knew he could keep himself level with them, and they’d accept it no matter what. Truthfully, Dean was more worried about how his father would take all of this. He wasn’t exactly hanging out with poster children, even if he wasn’t partying like they were.

Before he forgot, his shot his dad a text to tell him about his day and tell him goodnight. Even if he was only a few hours away, he missed his family. And the Impala. He thought he’d get it when he graduated high school, but his family had gifted him with a 2010 Honda Civic instead. Not that he really minded, the car drove really well and was reliable. It was just the point. 

He had really wanted the Impala.


	2. August 25th, 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - referenced child neglect, but it’s very mild

_So Azazel and you were really good at pretending to be enemies, I guess, huh? The guy could’ve been a bit nicer at school, couldn’t he? It’s not like his father was there every second to call him names._

_ I don’t know, I didn’t go through stuff like that. I had a good life, mostly. A little touch and go when Sammy was born. Mom got pretty sick and dad had to do a lot of stuff by himself. It taught us a lot of stuff, though. Helped my family grow closer than ever. And Sam had a great big brother looking out for him. _

_ Speaking of Sam, he’s a sophomore too. In high school. He’s determined to be a lawyer, and as far as I’m concerned, he’ll be a great one. He’s a smart kid, and mom and dad and I are proud of him. He’s coming to visit me this weekend, actually. We’re gonna have lunch and then head back home to see mom and dad. _

_ Lucky bastard gets to drive the Impala. _

_ Ah, look, I should’ve texted you sooner that day. I was dealing with my own shit, I guess. I had a lot of stuff that I kept bottling up back then. I was a stupid kid, I guess. Or, well, I know I was a stupid kid. I wish I’d texted you sooner. If I had known you were sitting around waiting for me... I don’t know, Cas. I’m sorry. _

_ And I’m sorry your parents were pieces of shit. Especially your dad. I didn’t know he was a drunk. _

_ But I think you could’ve been great. After college, I mean. I think Amelia was right to push you all the time. I know it didn’t seem like it at the time, but it was out of love, Cas. She didn’t want you to have her life. I think you could’ve been great. _

Dean closed the journal with a snap and swiped at his eyes. His classes today had been pretty easy, so he wasn’t as tired as he normally was at this time of night. A knock on the door had him tucking both journals back into his desk as he stood to answer it.

“Benny, hey,” he said with a smile.

“Michael let me in,” Benny told him, referencing one of the three guys Dean shared his block with. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” said Dean, shaking his head. “What’s up?” He moved aside so Benny could come in, closing the door behind him.

“Wanted to see if you’re doing all right, brother,” Benny said.

Dean dropped his head with a laugh. “I’m fine, Benny. Seriously. Where’s this comin’ from?”

Benny turned to him and shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “You haven’t turned down a party in awhile, Dean. I thought maybe something came up.”

Dean curled his hands into fists and shook his head harshly. “I’m over that, Benny. I haven’t touched a drink in nearly four months. Besides, Sammy’s comin’ down for a visit and then we’re heading back up to see my parents.”

Benny just stared at him for a moment before giving a sigh. “Yeah, all right. I’m sorry, Dean, I don’t mean to bring up old shit. I’m just worried, man. It’s been over four years and you’re still-“

“If that’s all, I’m gonna hit the hay,” Dean said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder toward the door.

Benny narrowed his eyes but nodded regardless, heading to open it. “Yeah, brother, that was all.” He paused right outside and looked at Dean with sadness in his eyes. “You’ll tell me if you ever need anything, right? You know I’m always here for you.”

Dean gave him a grin and reached to pat him on the shoulder. “‘Course, Benny. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow, yeah?”

Benny nodded and returned the gesture with a kind smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Dean closed and locked the door behind him, ignoring the voices in the little living room as the others said bye to Benny. He gave a soft sigh and changed into his pajamas, plugging his phone up and setting his alarm for the morning. He stared at the ceiling for a long while before sleep finally overtook him, dreams of a sadly familiar voice filling his head.


	3. August 28th, 2020 (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I forgot to post an update on Monday  
> But now the updates will be regularly posted!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> EDIT: TW - referenced past alcohol abuse, referenced past child abuse, references to past alcohol withdrawals, referenced past character death

_ I don’t think I ever realized just how awful your life was. I mean, your mom was a hooker. Or a prostitute, sorry. I know you hated when I called her a hooker._

_ But, seriously, Cas, it’s terrible that you had that life. I can’t imagine trying live without my mom in my life. She’s the reason I’m going to college in the first place, you know? Her and Sam._

_ She encouraged me to come and now, here I am. I mean, dad was supportive too but not in the same sense. And of course he was sad when I decided against the doctor route. But I think he’s finally coming around to me being an engineer. I guess mom finally got to him.  _

_ It’s strange to think about, but I guess it’s true._

_ And you know, I always stared because you were so different from me. Not in a bad sense. I think that’s why I was drawn to you in the beginning._

_ I never blamed you for your temper, Cas, I hope you know that. Especially because I know how it feels to be angry all the time. I actually go to anger management now. Chuck told me anger was a normal reaction to something like this, but it’s been a little too long to keep blaming it on the trauma of losing you._

_ Not that it’s your fault. It’s never been your fault. You were the product of shitty circumstances and sometimes people don’t want to be saved. It sucks, but that’s the truth of the matter._

_ I never knew your mother almost ended your life before you were even born. I never realized you felt like you weren’t supposed to exist. You were and I’m always so grateful that she didn’t go through with it._

_ Your mom - Amelia, she’s doing great now. You’d never think she was the same person as back then. Cas, you’d be proud of her, I think. I think I already mentioned she’s working for Chuck right now. She’s also taking some college classes online._

_ I think she’s just taking basics, but it’s a start. She’s doing really well. _

_ Look, Cas, I know I haven’t written in a few days. Truth is, I’ve been dreading this since Amelia gave me the journal. I used to keep it locked in a box under my bed. Did you know that? I didn’t think I’d ever open that box. _

_ But my therapist said it might be a good idea to read it eventually so I could heal. I don’t think reading all this would help anyone heal, though. I’ve been trying so damn hard, Cas, you have no idea. _

_ I’m just so angry all the time. And I wish I knew why. Chuck said it was normal but I’m not so sure about what normal is anymore._

_ I’m actually recovering from being an alcoholic. I’ve been sober for almost four months now. My mom and dad were great the whole time, though I think Sam was afraid of me for awhile. I think dad’s only question was how I got the drinks in the first place, but it doesn’t take a genius to print a fake license to buy some drinks._

_ It was bad, Cas. The first week without it was the worst. I got so sick, man, it was the worst I’ve ever felt. It felt like I was swimming through molasses the whole damn time. And don’t even get me started on the shakes, Cas. I couldn’t even pick up a damn pencil, let alone a drink._

_ I felt like someone stuffed me in a fucking sauna and cranked the heat up as far as it would go._

_ But the worst was the hallucinations. Chuck told me some people have seizures, but thankfully that didn’t happen to me. Mom had seizures when she got sick after Sammy, so I’m glad I didn’t have to experience that. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever witnessed._

_ Hallucinating was awful. I mean, you’re an alcoholic for almost four years and I guess your body just shits on you. I saw you, Cas. You would come to me and beg me to help you. You’d ask me why I didn’t help all those years ago, or why I didn’t reach you in time._

_ It was those days that would make me want to go back to drinking. Because at least then I couldn’t hear you asking the same questions I asked of myself. _

_ And ever since I cracked your journal open, I’ve been having those nightmares again. Of you stepping off that ledge with that fucking smile on your face. How could you be happy knowing you were about to fucking die? I don’t understand it. _

_ Well, I do. Like I said, the first year was the worst. And I finally understood why you felt that was your only option. Because I felt that way too. I told my mom and dad about that, though. _

_ And, well, they told Chuck and he sent me to a psychiatric hospital. So I was locked in that place for like five months. When I got out, I turned to alcohol to purge you from my mind. _

_ Which worked, mostly. Until the whole sobering up thing. Don’t ask how I managed to keep my grades up, because I barely know myself._

_ Anyway, I should do some homework. _

Dean closed the journal and leaned back in his desk chair, frowning. He looked back at the first few entries in his book, shaking his head. They dated back to 2016, and then stopped after about two weeks. He hadn’t written in it since. 

Now he was spilling his guts to a guy that wasn’t around anymore. Dean wiped a rough hand down his face and tossed the book into a drawer before going to take a shower.

“Hey, Dean,” Michael called from his seat on the couch. “We were just about to watch a movie. Care to join us?” He motioned to Raphael who was making popcorn on the stovetop, and Balthazar who was placing the disc in the DVD player.

Dean glanced at the time and then gave a slight nod. “Uh, yeah, sure. That would be great. I’m gonna take a shower first, if you guys don’t mind.” 

Michael grinned and waved him off.

“Take your time, Dean. No rush,” Raphael said with a dip of his head.

“Tomorrow is Saturday after all,” Balthazar added as he stood. “And I don’t think I’ve seen you out of that room longer than five minutes at a time. It’s really rather droll, don’t you think?”

Dean shot the Brit a scoff and shrugged off the words. “I just... really like studying.”

“Right,” Michael laughed. “Let the man shower, would you,” he added, leaning forward to smack Balthazar’s arm.

Raphael chuckled at them and turned to Dean. “Do you like popcorn? I can make an extra bag for you,” he said.

Dean flexed his hand behind his back in a soothing motion and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Thanks.”

“Go shower already,” Michael called. “We’ll wait for you.”

Dean ducked back into his room to grab clean clothes and then hurried to the bathroom. He showered faster than he had in awhile and then hurried back out to the couch.

Balthazar was fast asleep, snoring away. Raphael and Michael were poking the guy, seeing how forceful they could be before he woke up.

“Oh, Dean,” Michael said. “Great! Let’s get started.”

“What about Balthazar?” Dean wondered as he stepped over his legs to sit on Michael’s left.

“He does this every time,” Raphael answered. “He’ll wake up soon enough.”

Dean smiled slightly when Raphael handed him the popcorn, and Michael pressed play on the movie. At the same time, he shoved Balthazar forward with his socked foot.

Balthazar snorted awake and stood to squeeze between Michael and Raphael. “Nice and cozy,” he said.

Dean couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from his mouth as he shifted to give the others more room. 

“If you don’t move your fucking hand in two seconds, you’ll lose it,” Raphael said, voice calm despite the threat he threw at Balthazar.

“Shut up, lovebirds, the movie is starting,” Michael told them.

Of course, this lead to outrage from Balthazar, and Raphael was jostled several times as the Brit tried unsuccessfully to shove Michael off the couch. Dean grinned like he’d known these three all his life, and then wondered why he hadn’t talked to them sooner.

The fire alarm made them freeze in shock before instinct kicked in and they made their way outside.

“This is your fault,” Michael told Raphael as they descended the staircase. “If you made popcorn like regular people-“

“As if,” Raphael argued. He shoved Michael lightly out the emergency exit. “The alarm went off after my popcorn was done.”

“It’s obviously Dean’s fault,” Balthazar spoke up. “I mean, he’s been so quiet since the alarm went off. He’s trying to figure out how to best escape the inevitable truth.”

Dean closed the door behind them with a chuckle. “You caught me,” he said with a feigned look of guilt.

“Dean!”

The four boys turned to see Benny and Ash racing toward them, worry on their faces.

“Woah, hey guys. What’s the problem?” Dean wondered.

“Checking in on their lover, of course,” Michael teased. He reached up and rested his elbow on Dean’s shoulder. “Sorry boys, the three of us have sucked him into the-“

“No, Michael” —Dean brushed off Michael’s arm and scowled— “this is serious. What happened?” He turned back to Ash and Benny with concern.

Ash gulped in air and shook his head as Benny spoke, “We can’t find Crowley.”


	4. August 28th, 2020 (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: referenced past character death, referenced alcohol abuse, depressing subject at the end

"What do you mean, you can't find Crowley?" Dean wondered, glaring between the two of them. "Doesn't he room with both of you?"

"Technically, yeah," Ash started, "but he left to go visit some girl in the lobby like an hour ago. When we went down there to get him after the alarms went off... well, he wasn't there, Dean," he said with worry. "Do you think he's alright?"

"You two are so dumb sometimes," Dean muttered. "He's more than likely with that girl."

"He didn't answer his phone," Benny added.

"Well, if he's fucking some broad-"

"Oh, God, shut up, Michael. I do _not_ need that image in my mind," Dean said in a rush, waving his hands in the man's directions. "No, he always answers his phone. Literally always."

"Yeah," Ash agreed with a shudder.

"Oh, gross," Balthazar said, clamping a hand over is mouth as he feigned vomiting. 

"Regardless," Raphael cut in, "we should figure out where he is before the RA gets here, don't you think?"

"Good idea," said Dean and Benny together.

"Let's split up," Ash suggested. "Dean, you and I will check in the library, cafeteria, and the girls' dorm closest to ours. Michael and Benny will check in our dorm, the farthest girls' dorm, and the gym. Raphael and Balthazar can go check the science building and the observatory."

"We have an observatory?" asked Balthazar in shock, though he had a huge smile on his face.

"You literally had a class there over the summer, dumbass," Michael shot back.

Raphael let out a harsh sigh and glared at the Brit. "Must I be stuck with this imbecile?"

"I'll go with you, Raphael. Balthazar, go with Ash here. And behave, will you?" Dean warned, already feeling comfortable with teasing the three boys he had avoided for some reason. He was struck again with the thought of _should've talked to them sooner_ and quickly scrubbed it from his mind to focus.

Raphael led Dean down the path with a flashlight in his hand.

"Do you just carry a flashlight with you?" asked Dean.

"Of course," Raphael said like it made all the sense in the world. "Don't you?"

Dean glanced at his phone and grimaced. "I have the one on my phone," he said sheepishly. "I wouldn't think I'd need one beyond that, right?"

Raphael shrugged and turned to look at him. "I suppose," he said. "But what if your phone dies? Then you'd be descended into darkness and lose your way, would you not? I prefer to be safe rather than sorry."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean admitted with a frown. "So, did you three know each other before transferring here?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Raphael said, though he had a smile on his face. "When we learned the dorms had four separate rooms, we requested to live together. That's how we were given you as our fourth. I'm surprised you did not request your three friends."

"Well, I'm not... I don't know," Dean said through a sigh. "Originally, the plan was for Benny, Azazel, and I to request a room together. Some things came up that made me..."

"Rethink," Raphael suggested.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. The three of us kind of have a rough past. I struggled with alcohol for three years."

"Really?" Raphael paused to make sure the roads were clear before crossing over to the observatory. "I wouldn't have guessed that."

"Well, I've been sober nearly four months. I wanted to get it fixed before I completely ruined my college life." Dean reached to open the door, only to find it locked.

"That means he hasn't been here," Raphael told him. "Security locks the observatory at six every night. It can only be locked from the outside," he explained when Dean shot him a skeptical look.

"Great," Dean said. "To the science hall, then?"

Raphael nodded and turned away to cross the street again. 

Dean's phone lit up with a call from Benny. "Hey, did you find him?"

Benny's voice was tinny and quiet when he answered. "Yeah, we got him. The RA's car just pulled up along with the firetrucks. You and Raphael be careful coming back."

"Hey, who are you one the phone-"

Dean heard a click on the line and pulled his phone to see Benny had quickly hung up. "Alright, Raphael. The RA is there, so we need to be quiet about sneaking back over there. Any ideas?"

Raphael motioned for Dean to follow him. "I know a shortcut to our designated area. And it comes in through the back of the space. We won't be noticed if we stay low."

Dean and Raphael sat against the brick wall with a sigh of relief. "Nice one, Raphael. We should be good."

Raphael stayed quiet but dipped his head to Dean as a sign that he had heard.

"Thanks, by the way. For helping us, I mean," Dean said next. "I know you guys don't really know Crowley, or necessarily like him all that much. But it means a lot to me that you'd want to help us find him."

"I don't dislike him," Raphael assured. "I don't know much about him," he added evenly. "How can I pass judgement on a man I know nothing about? I have heard rumors, but I know nothing of his past or what reasons he has to do the things he has supposedly done. I pass judgement based on my own observation. And I have only ever observed Crowley as a friend of yours. Of course I would help."

"I just - I know I don't really spend much time with you guys. I didn't think any of y'all liked me," admitted Dean with a small chuckle. When Raphael turned his scrupulous gaze toward him, he lifted his hand to rub at the back of his neck.

"You work hard," Raphael said simply. "I respect your passion for your major and your loyalty to your friends. I hope to someday earn the honor of being a friend to you, Dean."

"I'd say you're already pretty close in my book," Dean told him gratefully. How strange it was to have people actually _want_ to know him and become friends with him. Dean felt his heart lighten for the first time in four years. Still, his chest ached for Castiel to be here alongside him.

_So, the fire was a false alarm, it turns out. And no, it wasn't Raphael's popcorn or me. Turns out someone had burnt some cheese in the ovens downstairs and it set off the alarms._

_And yes, Crowley was with that girl. Despite our thoughts, he actually was just talking a walk with her. Apparently they were really friends, and were on their way back to their dorms with Benny and Michael found him. Turns out his phone had died and that's why he didn't answer. I guess I should start carrying a flashlight with me like Raphael suggested._

_Honestly, Cas, I think you would really like Raphael. I think you would really like all these guys; Ash, Michael, Balthazar, Crowley, and Raphael. They're all pretty cool. And I think you would be so proud of Azazel for everything he's done for himself. He wanted to fix himself and his life. He wanted to do better for himself more than anything else._

_I wish you had wanted those same things. Maybe you did, I don't know. Maybe you just didn't want them enough, I don't know. I know exactly three things right now._

_I know that life is a lot more dull without you in it._

_I know that you would like making friends with all of these guys._

_I know that I miss you so much more since I opened that journal than I have in awhile._

_And there are exactly two things I'm still trying to figure out in the long run._

_I'm still trying to figure out what the hell to do about this giant hole in my chest that seems to keep growing bigger and bigger every day I wake up from those nightmares on repeat in my mind._

_And I'm still trying to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to be accomplishing by talking to a guy that's been gone for over four years now. Am I meant to just move on, Cas? I mean, you were my first love. And my only love, so far._

_Am I supposed to just let you go for good? How will anyone ever remember you if I let you drift away once and for all?_

_Am I supposed to love someone else knowing I could never give myself as fully as I gave myself to you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so much for a schedule. Sorry guys! I started my own school year with Dean, so the first two weeks were very hectic. Updates should be much more regular now! Thanks for understanding guys.


	5. August 29th, 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: TW - referenced past alcohol abuse, referenced past character death, depressing subject at end

_I just got back home. It was supposed to just be lunch, but Sam convinced me to come back for the weekend. My classes on Monday got cancelled anyway, so I don't have to worry about being back in time for them. I almost invited Raphael, but decided against that. It's the first time I'll be seeing my family again since I've started the school year._

_Not to mention, they can see me sober for the first time in several years. And I didn't want them asking questions about that in front of Raphael, because he doesn’t know much about my problem with it._

_Thankfully, mom and dad are out shopping at the moment, so Sam and I get a bit of rest to do homework and talk between just us. I've missed him, but don't tell him that. Can't have the kid getting a big head._

Dean jerked in surprise when the knock on his door rattled him from his writing. "Yeah?"

"Mom just texted and said they're on the way back," Sam called through the door. "Just wanted to let you know."

Stretching out his back, Dean stood and made his way to open the door. "Cool. Thanks, Sammy," he grinned. _**Damn, that kid grew fast**_ , Dean thought with a spark of jealousy in his mind. He and Sam were now the same height. Just four months ago it had seemed Sam was still looking up at him.

 _ **To be fair, you were pretty fucked up four months ago. Sobering up and all that**_ , his brain supplied bitterly. Which, yes, was true. But the fact that he had even remembered that was a step in the right direction. If he recalled that every time he wanted to go back to drinking, maybe he could keep himself in line.

"How's Benny and Azazel? You didn't talk much on the car ride here," Sam said, a bit of hesitance in his voice.

"Ah, yeah," Dean responded dumbly. His tongue felt suddenly too big for his mouth. "They're good. I haven't seen much of Azazel, but he texts me a lot. He's thriving, honestly. And Benny is - well, it's Benny, so, yeah."

Sam laughed thickly and dropped his head into his chest. "Yeah, I get that," he said. "And what about you? How've you been?"

Dean swallowed the broken pit lodged in his throat and forced a chuckle past his lips. "I'm - I'm hanging in there," he said, surprised that the lie died in his mouth and morphed into what he hadn't wanted to admit. "It's rough."

Sam reached out for his hand, an old gesture that (thankfully) hadn't died between them, and squeezed his brother's fingers twice before letting go. "Have you been going to that therapist Chuck told you about up there?"

Dean lashed his head and grinned. "No, I'm not that bad, Sammy," he claimed, easily back to his lying. "Just a little sadder than usual."

"Yeah?" Sam asked, hopeful. "That's good, Dean. I'm really glad. I still remember last year when-"

"Boys, we're home!" Mary called happily up the stairs, careening around the corner to hug Dean. "Oh, it's so good to see you, sweetheart. I've missed you so much."

Dean clung to her and plastered that grin back on his face. "I've missed you too, mom," he told her softly. "It's really good to be back."

"How long are you staying?" John asked as he poked his head around the corner to see Dean.

Dean galloped down the stairs and let his father sweep him into a startlingly strong hug. "Until Monday," he said when he pulled back and could breathe. "My classes got cancelled."

"Lovely," Mary exclaimed, ruffling his hair. "I'm making spaghetti and meatballs tonight."

"Yum," Dean and Sam said together, earning a chuckle from John.

"You boys are so similar sometimes," John said, clapping both of them on the back with one of his hands. "Did you two finish your homework?"

"Yes," Dean said, automatic but truthful.

"Almost," Sam tacked on, almost guiltily. "I was going to go back up and finish before dinner, if that's alright."

John gave a nod of approval. "By all means, Sam, do that and have the whole weekend free to hang out with your brother and old man."

With that, Sam hurried back up the stairs and into his room.

Dean turned to his father and gave him a genuine smile. "You kept my room the same."

"Always do, Dean," John replied with a fond look. "How have you been holding up?"

"Good," Dean lied again. "Much better. And I haven't even looked at a drink."

John motioned Dean to his room and he followed behind him. "How are the nightmares?"

"Mostly gone," said Dean idly as he cleared his desk and stuffed both his and Cas's old journal into his backpack. "The start of every new school year is always a little worse, of course."

John leaned against Dean's bed, not quite sitting or standing. "Yeah, I know, kid. But you're doing good, you know? I'm really proud of you."

Dean ducked his head, embarrassed and ashamed that he was lying to his father despite his promise to be truthful. "Thanks, dad."

"Have you met anyone new?" John asked.

Dean had dreaded this question. His father asked him every time he saw him, and while he knew he meant in terms of _relationship_ rather than _friendship_ , he grinned and nodded. "Yeah, I've met tons of new people. The guys I room with are actually really cool. I'm looking forward to this year."

"Dean," John chided quietly, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know you're smart enough to know what I mean."

"Dad, I can't," Dean said sharply. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but it felt like he'd had the same conversation far too many times.

"There's nothing wrong with moving on, Dean," John told him kindly.

Dean jammed his teeth together and glared at the floor. "Stop it," he said, almost pleading. "I loved him, dad. So much. And I can't just get over something like that in a few years. I need more time."

"It's been four years, Dean," John chastised. "Three of which you spent more drunk than not. You nearly threw your whole life away for something you couldn't help to begin with."

"I could've helped!" Dean finally shouted, fist slamming into the wood of the desk so hard his hand stung. "Don't tell me I couldn't have helped, dammit! I did everything, dad! _Everything_! I don't understand why-!" He was yanked into a hug that was both suffocating and comforting.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I know you did your best. I'm sorry," John whispered into his ear, breath harsh and grating on Dean's skin. His voice was gravel and Dean knew his father was crying along with him. 

"Dad?" Sam asked, hand on the door as he leaned into the room. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, Sam. Don't worry; just your father being an idiot, alright?" John called back, cradling Dean's head on his chest to hide his tears from his brother.

Sam stared at them a moment longer before pushing himself away from the room and back to his own.

"John? Everything alright up there? I heard shouting," Mary said from the bottom of the stairs.

John gave a heavy sigh and pulled away from Dean to go to Mary. "Just a little spat, Mary. No big deal." He clambered down the stairs, leaving Dean with hot tears spilling down his cheeks and dripping to the floor.

_Four years isn't enough time. I don't care what anyone says. That pain of watching you step off that ledge stings worse with every new day I see. It hurts like hell, Cas. I fucking wish... I don't know what I wish for anymore._


	6. August 30th, 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: TW - referenced past character death, nightmares about death/loss/dying, jokes about death

_It's Sunday. I haven't been the greatest at keeping up with this like I said I would, but I'm trying my best. After my dad and I fought, I had to sit at the dinner table and pretend he hadn't told me to get over your death. As if watching the guy you love smile as he stepped off a ledge isn't traumatic._

_It is. I still have nightmares about it to this day. In the worst one, I got to you and I grabbed your arm but your momentum pulled us both down. I jerk awake before I ever hit the ground, but I can always remember your expression. It's peaceful. As if you thought falling to your death was the best thing to ever happen to you._

_For you, maybe it was. For me, it's a hell worse than death. It's worse than experiencing the symptoms of sobering up ever was. I would gladly stay drunk for the rest of my life if it meant I never had to see you in my dreams again._

_But that's a lie. I've gotten so used to seeing you when I sleep that I sometimes expect you to be there when I wake up. Of course, you never are. But sometimes those dreams feel so real._

_Sometimes I wake up from a good dream of you where your pressed against my side and mumbling something ridiculous in your sleep. And then I actually open my eyes and my hands close around empty space and I just feel so bland._

_I think today I'll visit your grave. Dad advises against that, because I can't keep living in the past. But Cas, I really thought that you would be my future. How am I meant to keep living if my past is determined to run me into the dirt?_

Dean snapped the journal shut before he could continue. He would do more writing when he got to Cas's grave. For now, he wanted breakfast and a quick shower.

"Morning, Dean," Sam greeted when he saw his brother from the kitchen.

"Hey, Sam. Sleep good?" Dean asked him through a yawn.

Sam chuckled and handed Dean a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. "Mostly. Had a little trouble falling asleep. What about you?"

"Mostly," Dean echoed simply. He grabbed a fork from the drawer and sat to eat his food, thanking Sam before he dug in. "How's school going?"

Sam nodded a few times as he finished up the dishes. "Good. Great, actually. I'm really loving it. I mean, it's high school, but still. My classes are good and the people are relatively nice."

"Yeah?" Dean wondered, proud. "I'm glad, Sammy. Sounds like you're gonna have a great year."

Sam ducked his head and made his way to sit across from Dean at the table. He stretched back into the chair with a wide smile. "Yeah, sounds like."

Silence passed between them as Dean chewed his food and Sam stared at him like a lab rat.

"You got something to say, then say it, Sammy," Dean finally snapped past a mouthful of bacon.

Sam gave a scowl but stayed silent, shaking his head.

"Come on, dude. I'm not an idiot. I know you better than anyone," Dean argued. "And I know that's the face you make when you have a question. So, spit it out."

"I just …" Sam clicked his tongue and leaned forward, resting his elbows against the tabletop. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," Sam started, scratching at his neck, "you and dad got into it yesterday. My room is right next to yours, Dean. I heard you shouting pretty clearly. You know what happened with Cas - that wasn't your fault, Dean."

Dean slammed his fork down and glared at the plate as he stood. "Shut up, Sam. You wouldn't get it, alright?"

"No, Dean. This is serious," Sam pleaded as he followed after Dean through the house. "None of that is on you, man. Cas was seriously messed up. He had a shitty life and people treated him like shit." He grabbed onto Dean's sleeve before he could go into his room.

Dean jerked his hand away from him and shoved Sam back, hard, into the wall. "Well, I didn't! I never once treated Cas like shit! I was always there for him! I did _not_ leave him! He left _me_!"

Sam stared wide-eyed at his brother but said nothing else, his heart pounding blood in his ears and filling his body with white-hot adrenaline. 

Dean slammed the door shut behind him and glowered at the carpet. His hands shook with rage and his head swam with that familiar feeling of _fight_. He turned and punched a hole in the drywall, a sharp sting of pain lacing through his knuckles that he promptly ignored.

Before he could think too hard, he stuffed the two journals into his schoolbag and raced downstairs.

"Dean, where are you going?" Sam asked frantically.

"Out!" growled Dean viciously as he threw the door open and clambered into his shitty car. He started it and punched the gas with enough force to make the tires squeal.

Sam hurried out of the house to try and catch him, but was nowhere near fast enough. Dean was gone.

_Your grave looks exactly the same as I remember it. Except now there's grass instead of rocks and dirt. Guess that means you make good fertilizer. Is that ok to joke about? I don't really care anymore._

_I'm so sick of everyone trying to tell me how I should feel about this. It's a tragedy. Obviously it's going to take more than a few months to get over it. And everyone mourns differently, right? So what's the big deal?_

"Thought I might find you here."

Dean turned at the voice. "Azazel?"

"Hey, Dean," Azazel said softly. He took a seat next to Dean on the grass and looked over at him. "When Benny told me you decided to go home over the weekend, I followed suit. Hope you don't mind the company."

Dean shook his head and said, "No, not at all." He closed the journal and set it aside. "How've you been? I haven't seen you much around campus other than in class."

"I don't go out much," Azazel said by way of an explanation. "I've been better, honestly. I still think about him every day, but it's less concrete than before." He motioned to Cas's tombstone as he spoke, smiling slightly. "People keep telling me it's ok to feel sad. But I already know that, don't I?"

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "I get that too. But it's more than just being sad, isn't it?"

"Of course," said Azazel with a quick nod. "Other people don't seem to realize that though, do they?" He heaved a sigh and crossed his legs. "I'm just trying my best to get out of bed some days. Those days I wonder if he felt that way all the time. And I wonder how he was able to keep going for so long." With that, Azazel stood and took his leave. 

Dean offered him a wave and turned back to the tombstone with a look of surprise. Azazel was right. If Cas felt like that all the time, how did he manage to stay alive for as long as he did?


	7. September 1st, 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: referenced past child abuse/child trauma, referenced past character death, referenced past alcohol abuse, brief mentions of relapse (NOT an actual relapse), self-blame
> 
> Enjoy :)

_Finally back at school. Monday was more than a little rough. Sammy really didn't want me to leave, especially since he didn't get to tell me goodbye before I went because he had classes. I considered stopping by the school to see some of my old teachers, but Sammy told me Mr. Singer doesn't work there anymore. And since he also stopped coaching the soccer team Sam used to be on, I don't have any way to contact him anymore._

_The roommates asked how everything went, which was nice but exhausting. Those three guys are a little much sometimes. Except Raphael, I really like him. He's a nice guy and after he helped us find Crowley that night_ and _kept us out of trouble with the RA, he's definitely moved up on the list of my friends._

_Speaking of Crowley, apparently he's only staying one more semester. So he'll be graduating in December instead of in spring like the other seniors. That class he's taking with me? It's the only one he still needed to finish his major._

_Look, Castiel, I know some of the shit Amelia did was awful. She wasn't a great person. But she turned her life around. I know I keep bringing her up, but it's just because I know you would be so proud. She's doing really well in her online classes, and her work with Chuck is also helping her branch out and meet new people._

_She's doing great. I actually went with her to lunch on Monday. She looks so much better, Cas, you would barely believe she's the same person._

_Your dad, Tyler, has officially been incarcerated for four years and one month. He still has another thirty-seven years left. He was found guilty of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon and felony child abuse. Cas, your father wasn't a young guy. Would it make you feel better to know he'll likely die in jail? And he's probably getting beat up every day for assaulting a kid._

_Knowing you, that wouldn't make you feel any better, though. It makes me feel better. He deserves it after everything he did to you and Amelia._

_Truth is, I did have nightmares, Cas. I just - you seemed like you had too much other shit going on that I didn't want you worrying about me or my problems. I just wanted you to feel like someone was there for you. And I was._

_I was always there for you, Cas. Maybe I didn't get there soon enough? I don't understand why? What did I do wrong? Why didn't you know that I was right by your side the whole time? That I would always be by your side?_

_It hurts so much more now, Cas. And I have no idea how to stop this pain, because all I ever knew that worked on it was the alcohol. But I can't go back to that life. Never again. Especially because your dad was an alcoholic piece of shit and I know you'd be so disappointed in me if I relapsed. And I could never let you down, Cas. Not again._

_Not after last time. Because that cost me the love of my life. And I can't keep denying that I'm stuck on you because I am._

_You're in my head all the time. You ask me questions about my day. You ask me why I hadn't run just a little faster. You wonder why I didn't catch you. And you ask me what could have been if I had been there sooner. If I had somehow managed to catch you and pull you to safety, you ask me what our life could've been like._

_And all I can think of is that I wouldn't have the hole in my heart that refuses to be filled by anything that anyone here has the offer. Not even the friendships are enough, Cas, and I'm so lost without you. I feel like I'm sludging through tar and it just keeps sucking me further and further inside. How am I supposed to survive when I feel like I'm constantly drowning? How am I supposed to survive when your voice is now my own?_

_What am I supposed to do?_

Dean pulled away from writing when a drop of water landed on the page and smudged the letters he had just scrawled. He sniffed, hard, and swiped at his cheeks to rid his face of the tears. He was so sick of feeling like this.

Even if no one else blamed him, Dean blamed himself. Because if he had just run a little bit faster … if he hadn't stopped to explain to John … if he hadn't bothered to put shoes on …

Cas would still be here.

Right?

Dean startled when a knock echoed through his room.

"It's Raphael."

"Yeah - uh - yeah, come in," Dean said as he scrubbed at his face and opened a textbook on top of the two journals.

Raphael opened the door and stepped inside his room with a kind smile. "The three of us were about to head to dinner. Would you like to join us?"

Dean looked over his shoulder at him and shrugged. "Depends," he said. "Where are you going?"

"This lovely place called the cafeteria," Raphael responded regally, bending at the waist into an exaggerated bow. "The food is subpar, but the atmosphere more than makes up for it, in my opinion," he said as he straightened. "Besides, being cooped up in here all night is no good for you."

Dean pushed back the chair from his desk and stood, turning to the other boy. "Guess I'll come."

Raphael grinned at him. "Lovely," he claimed. "Can't have you crying by yourself in here."

Dean's heart plummeted with the comment. "What do you mean? Could you hear me?"

Raphael gave him a single nod, though his eyes held nothing but respect and fondness. "Even if you don't want to talk about it with us, we'd like to try and cheer you up." He stepped back and motioned Dean through the door. "It's no fun when one of us is hiding upset. We're all here for you, Dean."

On second thought, maybe Dean _should_ stay behind. He really wasn't in the mood to be pestered with question after question about his current mental state, or why he decided sobbing in his room alone was the best option above all the others. He really wasn't in the mood for pity.

"Oh, you're coming?" Michael asked happily as he spotted Dean and Raphael standing in the hallway. "Let's hide so Balthazar thinks we left him."

"I'm right here," Balthazar called from the couch, chucking his empty water bottle at Michael's back. "I'm not nearly as daft as you lot seem to think."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Michael said as he picked up the trash and tossed it into the garbage. "Now, let's go eat. I am starving!"

"Aren't you always?" Balthazar questioned as he clambered to his feet and stuffed a pair of fuzzy pig slippers on his feet.

"If you are wearing those, then I refuse to be seen in a ten-foot radius of you," said Raphael evenly as he glared at the pink monstrosities. 

On second thought, Dean was _definitely_ going with these three idiots. He smiled and let out a laugh as Balthazar thrust one foot toward Raphael with a taunting song.

"Isn't that cannibalism?" asked Michael, earning a confused stare from the other three. He beamed at them and pointed at Balthazar's slippers. "A pig wearing his own kind? Isn't it tragic?"

Balthazar launched himself at Michael, who was halfway out the door after his words. "You better keep one eye open tonight, Michael!" He chased after him, leaving Raphael and Dean behind.

"Not so bad, is it?" Raphael asked him.

Dean cleared his throat and closed their door behind him, sheepish. "I'm sorry you had to hear that."

Raphael raised a hand and shook his head once. "No apologies necessary, Dean," he told him. "I'm not sure what is going on, but I do know that it is not business unless you wish to make it so. In other words, do not feel obligated to tell me anything you are not ready to share."

"Thanks, Raphael. Seriously."

"Certainly." Raphael held the stairwell door open for Dean and followed behind him. "I know that Michael and Balthazar can seem like a handful, but they care for you as well. And despite appearances, they are both smart enough to know when a friend needs a shoulder to lean on. Any one of us is there to offer it."

Dean nodded and dropped his chin into his chest. His palms were clammy, the moisture wicking through the denim of his jeans and settling into the skin of his thighs as he walked. "I'm just going through some shit. A little over four years ago, I - uh - I lost someone I really cared about. And I'm just having a lot of difficulty letting them go."

Raphael opened the door for Dean once they reached the bottom, but paused against the doorframe. "I too lost someone I care about. Two months ago, my mother was killed by a drunk driver. The man had a child in the car with him. The man was admitted into the ICU. He's in a coma."

"That's - I'm so sorry. I had no idea, Raphael," Dean said as he turned toward the other. His hands came out of his pockets and circled around Raphael's shoulders, bringing him close.

Raphael was taller than Dean, but he still dipped his head to bury his face in Dean's shoulder. "Thank you, Dean. I do not mean to diminish your struggles. Just to let you know that I am here for you should you ever need an ear. Michael and Balthazar have also experienced things in their life. Michael lost his twin brother when they were young. And Balthazar does not even know his biological parents."

Dean squeezed him a little tighter, eyes wet again. "I would never take that as you trying to make me feel that way, Raphael. Thank you, for trusting me." He pulled away and stared into Raphael's black eyes. "Truthfully, my best friend - my boyfriend - he took his own life four years ago. And I - I saw it. He - he just stepped off this cliff, and he was s-smil-"

"It's alright, Dean," Raphael soothed, pressing the other into another embrace. "I could not imagine the pain you must feel, even now. I am truly sorry for your loss. And I just want you to know that how you feel - there is nothing abnormal about this. His loss will likely stay with you for many more years, and there is nothing wrong with that."

"I couldn't save him. I fai-failed him and I can never - I will never be able to forgive myself," Dean cried, clinging to Raphael's shirt so he wouldn't fall to his knees.

Raphael motioned for the returning Michael and Balthazar to wait outside, shaking his head a few times at their concerned looks. They both went back outside with deep lines of worry staining their usual smiles. "Dean, you must understand that it is not your fault. You cannot blame yourself. The first step toward your healing is to understand that with every fiber of your being. And in time, you will be able to forgive yourself, because you will see that there was never any fault within you."

"But I-"

Raphael pushed him away and scowled at him, eyes going impossibly darker as he focused on Dean's tear-stained face. "Do _not_ make it your guilt or it will consume you. Just because it is your loss does not make it your responsibility."

Dean's lip quivered and the dam broke as tears flooded down his cheeks and spilled onto his shirt. For so long, he had been looking for someone to tell him the right words rather than those he wanted to hear. And he had finally found those words within the ebony man with the velvet voice standing before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If my description of Raphael offends anyone, please let me know so I can fix it!


	8. September 5th, 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - inferred relapse, alcohol abuse, victim blaming, past referenced character death, dark topics

_It’s been a few days, I know. But I’m having a lot of trouble. It’s the weekend, Cas. The weekends always seem to get to me the most and sometimes I can’t stand it._

_My mind has your face on constant loop when I sleep. You’re all I see in my dreams now. And I’m not sure I’m strong enough to keep doing this._

_I don’t know anymore._

_This might be my last entry, I’m not sure. I guess I’ll find out after awhile whether I want to come back to this. For now, I want to focus on school. I want to focus on_ myself _for once.  
_

_Because I’m so fucking tired of letting myself get hurt._

_Raphael and the other guys have been great about the whole thing. They do their best to cheer me up. Most of the time it just ends up making me feel worse, though._

_They've lost people too, you know? Who am I to complain?  
_

_It has been over four years, after all. Raphael just lost his mom a couple months ago. And he seems perfectly fine._

_But I know he’s not. Because I’m not, and your absence from my life is a constant reminder that I wasn’t enough._

_Not just for you, but for myself. I’m just not worth much anymore. I’m mostly broken._

_I mean, I’ve stopped going to anger management. I thought I was fine, all right? But I’m not. I’m more pissed than ever._

_Why the hell didn’t you let me help you, you fucker? Why did I have to be the one to watch you step off that fucking ledge, huh? How fucked up is that, Cas?_

_Pretty fucked in my book._

_But what do I know? I’m just an alcoholic fuck-up with anger issues and a desire to love a man that’s long since died._

_I’m barely functional enough to wake up in the morning now, did you know that?  
_

_Of course you don’t. You’re fucking gone. You know killing yourself is a sin, Cas? Did you know that?_

_So is being gay. Guess that means I’m going to hell. I’ll see you there._

  
Dean slammed the journal closed and lurched to his feet at the knock on his door. Flinging the door open with far more force than necessary, he scowled out at Benny and Azazel. “The fuck do y’all want?”

”Looks like they were right,” Azazel commented as he gave Dean a once over full of disgust. “Hand it over, Dean.”

”Fuck off. All a y’all can go straight to hell along with that piece of shit angel,” Dean growled out, thrusting a finger toward the two of them. “I’m an adult now. I can do whatever I want, so fuck y’all.”

”Give is the alcoholic or we’ll come in and take it by force,” Azazel countered. He stepped forward and softened his gaze, eyes full of concern. “Please, Dean. Don’t do this to yourself. Let us help you.”

”Help?” Dean sneered, snorting as he swayed on his feet. “I don’t need help, Azazel. Don’t you fuckers get it!? I need to feel something other than this-this pit inside me!”

”Cas wouldn’t want this for you, Dean,” Benny said gently.

”Don’t say his name!” said Dean. He lurched away from them, only just noticing Raphael, Michael, and Balthazar standing firmly behind Benny and Azazel. “What? Time for an intervention, huh? Here to make fun of the alcoholic?”

”Certainly not,” Michael told him with a shake of his head.

Dean scoffed and pulled further away from them. “Oh, look at Dean. What a pathetic sod he is, right? All fucked up and nowhere to go? Wallowing in his shitty misery like he’s the only one he’s lost someone? Like _I’m_ somehow the _only one_ affected by this!?” He whirled and threw his hands across the desk, sending the papers and journals and pencils and pens flying to the floor with a clatter. “I wasn’t even enough to save the guy I loved! How can you-how can any of you even stand to look at me?” He plopped himself to the ground (un)gracefully and swiped at his cheeks.

”You’re our friend,” Benny told him.

”And we care about you,” Azazel added softly, taking a single step closer.

”We want to help you,” Balthazar said with a nod.

”We’re worried about you, Dean,” Michael went on.

Raphael stepped forward into the room and knelt at Dean’s side, staring over at him. He lifted his hand and set it comfortingly on Dean’s shoulder, giving him a slight squeeze. “Because we want you to realize how much you matter to us,” he claimed fiercely. “Because we all love and care for you. Because you, _Dean Winchester_ , overcame these struggles before. And this time you’ll have far more help than before. Every single one of us has your back.”

”We'll always be here for you,” said Azazel quietly as he came to sit right in front of Dean. He crossed his legs and leaned forward to lay his hand on Dean’s knee, offering him a small smile.

Benny followed after them, settling himself in the small space between Dean and the bed. He set his hand on Dean’s other shoulder and nodded. “You are stronger when we’re with you. Supporting you and holding you up.”

Michael nodded and sat between Azazel and Raphael, reaching his hand to rest it on Dean’s neck. His fingers pressed into Dean’s skin in an effort to ground him. “Sometimes you need a little extra help,” he whispered.

Finally, Balthazar came and seated himself behind Dean. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s middle and rested his forehead against Dean’s back. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

The dam broke and tears rushed from Dean’s eyes with the force of a hurricane. “Lately, I just feel so fucking lost,” he sobbed. He pressed the heels of his palms harshly into his eyes so that colors splashed against the ink of his eyelids. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

”You’ll figure that you, Dean,” Azazel commented easily. He shrugged a shoulder and grinned. “I’m not worried about you.”

Dean dropped his head and bit roughly into his cheek until he could taste the sharp copper as it languidly trickled between his tastebuds and burrowed into his soul. “But, look a me.”

“Handsome devil, we know,” complained Balthazar regally.

Dean lashed his head and pressed his palm into his temple, head pounding. “I’m pathetic. I can’t even go longer than a week without wanting a drink now. And now I just... I ruined everything. Everything I worked for is gonna be lost to me forever.”

”That’s not true,” Michael told him.

Benny nodded along in agreement. “Hate to say it, but you’re just punishing yourself for something you couldn’t have stopped. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

Raphael stood and left the room in a hurry, leaving Michael and Balthazar to stare after him in disbelief. A moment later, he returned with a bottle of water. “You must stay hydrated. Drink this, but only take small sips. You don’t want to rush.”

Dean took the cup, his fingers lingering on Raphael’s hand as he clumsily grabbed for the mugs.

”If I do go to bed, you’re not invited,” said Dean. “And I’m going to bed. So everyone out.”

”Or you can invite everyone and we can all cuddle you until your inevitable sleep,” Balthazar suggested immediately.

Dean couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face. He gave a slight nod. “Not sure if my bed will handle that, but y’all are welcome to stay and help me sleep.”


	9. September 12th, 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this was supposed to posted a LONG time ago. The end of the semester is drawing near, which means my stress levels are at an all time high. My gift for the long wait is a slightly longer chapter with far less angst than the others. I hope you enjoy!

_ It’s been a week. I’m sober again. After last Saturday, my detox took about four days.  _

_ Needless to say, I’m now back to square one., but at least I’m officially a week sober again.  _

_ I’m really not feeling too well about continuing this writing. I can’t keep missing you like this, Castiel. I just can’t. My mind isn’t strong enough to keep doing this. Not anymore. _

_ All this to say: I’m going to try and let you go. For my own wellbeing. I’m going to try and let you go. _

Dean shut the journal with a sense of finality in his mind and stood, placing it back into the drawer and hoping he would never see the damn thing again (but that voice in his mind screamed he would be back soon).

After a shower, he met Raphael, Crowley, and Azazel outside. “All right guys, I’m ready when you are.”

“Balthazar, Benny, Ash, and Michael already left,” Crowley said. “They may beat us there, but we’ll kick their asses.”

“I’m a paintball champion,” Azazel spoke up, voice bored. “I’ve got medals.”

“Really?” asked Raphael.

“Yeah, he does,” Dean laughed. “It’s pretty great, actually. Why do you think I picked him first?” he wondered.

“I assumed it was because you two were an item,” Crowley commented. 

Azazel shot him a look of disgust as Dean burst into laughter. “Like I would ever date this mongrel?” Azazel said, affronted. “Not even in his dreams.”

“Did you really think we were dating?” Dean asked Crowley, rubbing a hand across his mouth to literally draw the laughter from his lungs. He clapped Crowley on the shoulder and shook his head in disbelief. “I’d be more likely to date a random worm I found than him.”

Crowley dropped his gaze and flushed, hands clenching nervously at his sides. “Well, I didn’t know. I thought you were dating Benny, but then I thought it was Azazel, and now-“

“Someone sounds jealous,” Raphael suddenly said, staring at the other boy with a knowing gaze. 

Crowley scoffed and shrugged Dean’s hand from his shoulder. “Hardly,” he claimed.

“Oh, he does!” Azazel joined in with a grin. “Does Crowley have a little crush on Deany Weany?” he teased.

Dean rolled his eyes as he stepped toward his car. “You guys are ridiculous. To be completely fair, Benny and Azazel are my two closest friends. But, no, I’m not dating either of them.”

Azazel nudged Crowley’s side as they hurried to catch up. “Meaning he’s available,” he singsonged.

Crowley shoved at Azazel, though he was attempting (and failing) to hide a nervous smile that refused to go away. “Shut up, will you? I hardly know the man, anyway.”

“And you never will unless you take that chance,” Azazel prompted. “Seriously, Dean’s a sweet-“

“Will you two come on,” Raphael called to them, glancing over his shoulder as if he could hear every word they spoke. “The others will find another group to compete with at this rate.”

Azazel nudged Crowley once more as he clambered into the backseat of Dean’s Honda. “Hey, Dean, can I drive?” 

“Absolutely not,” Dean responded without hesitation. “What’s the house rule, everyone?”

“Driver picks the music,” Azazel said.

“Shotgun shuts his cake hole,” Raphael and Crowley finished, laughter following the words. 

“Damn straight.” Dean started his little Honda and they were off.

“For cryin’ out loud!” Dean barked as he scrambled back behind his lookout position. “We’ll never push them back at this rate,” he added, calling over to Azazel as Ash and Michael cackled just beyond the tree line.

“I have a plan,” Azazel said. He hurried over to Dean’s spot, narrowly avoiding a paintball as he ducked behind the wooden boards. He motioned Crowley forward, signaling him to stay low, then did the same to Raphael. When everyone was together, Azazel grinned.

“Why does that smile feel so ominous?” Raphael wondered. 

“Because it is,” Dean replied with a frown. “Alright, lay it on us.”

Azazel nodded and detailed the plan to them, grinning the whole time. 

“That’s ... actually a really smart idea,” Crowley complimented begrudgingly. “But I still don’t like it.”

“He’s right, though. Statistically speaking, we have the best chance if we do it that way,” Dean agreed. “Whenever you’re ready, captain.” He offered Azazel a mock salute.

Azazel stood and sighted the two others, ducking down just in time to let a paintball sail past his head. “Alright. Ash is right down the middle, tucked behind a bush of thorns and a big oak. And Michael is to the left of him, behind that reddish rock. Michael has the least visibility,” he told them. 

“So we’re going left?” Raphael asked him.

“No,” Azazel chided. “That’s what they’ll expect,” he added. “We go right, around this corner here, and then stay low in those hedges over there. We should be good. I’ll cover you guys and go across last.”

“And I’ll cover you when you cross,” Dean told him. 

“Perfect.” Azazel popped his head up again, scanning the trees. “I think they’re reloading. First person is good to go across.”

Dean nodded toward Crowley and Raphael, telling them they should go first. 

“I will be the guinea pig, I suppose,” Raphael told them. “I am not much of an asset, after all.” With that, he took off, crouching low to the ground and keeping his gun at the ready. 

Azazel peeked around the corner, keeping the two spots in his sight as he aimed. With Raphael safely across, Azazel motioned Crowley forward. “Hold on,” he said softly, latching onto Crowley’s sleeve. 

Ash stood, glaring at the boards. “You guys are bein’ awful quiet over there!” he called to them. 

Michael chuckled and followed his lead. “I sure hope they aren’t planning something, Ash!” he said. 

They turned back to each other and laughed. Azazel let go of Crowley’s sleeve and ushered him forward in a rush. 

“You don’t have to shove me,” Crowley snapped as he stumbled. He regained his footing and hurried toward the bushes.

“Easy, Azazel,” Dean muttered. “It’s not a competition this time,” he told him.

“Once we get over there, it won’t be a competition at all. We’ll kick their asses in minutes,” Azazel said, nudging Dean’s side. 

Crowley signaled his safe arrival and Dean started forward. 

“Oh, wait, Dean,” Azazel hissed.

Dean rolled his eyes and kept going. 

Benny hopped down from the nearby tree and rushed Dean with a roar. He was firing without really aiming, his eyes practically closed.

Dean couldn’t hold back the laugh at his friend’s face. He raised his gun and made to pull the trigger before he heard the  thwap of paint hit Benny square in the chest.

Benny froze, looking down at the splattered blues on his gear. He clutched at his front and fell to his knees dramatically, eyes wide. “How could you, brother?” he asked Dean as he sunk onto his back and gave a few gurgles as he convulsed on the ground.

Dean burst into hysterical laughter, clutching at his stomach as Benny kept on making noise after noise, refusing to actually die. “Pl-please, Benny, you - you look like an i-idiot,” Dean cried.

Despite his dramatic efforts to stay alive, Benny couldn’t keep the bright grin from his mouth. “Brothers, I’m wounded! Soldier fallen! MIA! Medic!” He flopped to his stomach and reached out toward where Ash and Michael were busy collapsing against each other as they giggled. 

Azazel promptly stood and gave a triumphant holler. “Yes!” 

“Oh no! Our mighty captain has fallen!” Balthazar feigned crying as he hurried to Benny’s side. “How can our little band of soldiers continue?” 

“Balthy, come ... closer,” Benny gasped, smearing his blue-painted hand over Balthazar’s cheeks and jaw. 

Balthazar sputtered past his chuckles, trying to appear serious. “I’m here, captain. What is it?”

“Tell my wife ... tell my wife I love her,” said Benny before finally letting out a wheezing sigh.

Balthazar stood and turned to the others, saluting as his shoulders shook with giggles. “Michael! Benny loves you!” 

At that, Benny erupted into laughter so loud his voice echoed back to them. 

“Blue team wins. We’ll send the golf cart to pick you up. Thank you for playing.”

“Nice shot, Azazel,” Dean said as the man helped him stand. “You knew he was there, didn’t you?” 

Azazel clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. “Course I did. And I knew you wouldn’t listen if I told you to wait. And I knew Benny was waiting to attack either you or me. I took a small gamble on it being you.” 

Crowley and Raphael arrived back to the group, Ash and Michael trailing not far behind them. “Dean cheated,” Ash yelled. “He had a paintball champion on his team. That’s cheating!” 

Another round of laughter went through the boys as the golf cart crested the hill and hurried toward them. 

“Next time, I get Azazel,” Benny said. 

“I’ll just turn him into a double agent,” Dean told him with a shrug of his shoulder. 

They all climbed into the cart, enjoying the breeze as they headed back to the entrance. 

And for once, Dean hadn’t thought about Cas in hours.


	10. September 14th - September 15th 2020

“Hey, dad,” Dean greeted once John finally answered the phone.

“What’s up, kid? How was your day, huh?” asked John with a smile in his voice. 

Dean smiled and laid back on his bed. “Busy,” he responded. “But really good. I got a B on my organic chemistry quiz.”

“Really? Dean, that’s great,” John said happily. “I know you said that class was giving you trouble.”

“Yeah,” said Dean, “but I got some extra tutoring from Ash.”

“The one with the mullet?” asked John.

Dean couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from his chest. “Yeah, dad, that one.”

John hummed on the other end. “Hey, whatever helps, kid. That’s all that matters. Two steps at a time, right?”

“Dad,” Dean mumbled, heart heavy. 

“Sorry,” John was quick to say. “Force of habit. I didn’t mean-“

“I know,” Dean said. “It’s getting pretty late. I should head to bed.”

John gave a soft sigh that he tried to mask. “Yeah. All right, Dean. Get some sleep. Are you gonna come home this weekend?”

“I dunno,” Dean admitted softly. “I’ve got two big tests next week that I want to start studying for. It’ll depend on how confident I feel about the material by Friday.”

“No worries,” John told him. “I love you, Dean.”

Dean smiled, closing his eyes. “Yeah, dad. I know,” he replied with a chuckle. “Talk tomorrow?”

“Always,” John said.

The line clicked and a knock on Dean’s door had him on his feet to answer.

“Hello, Dean,” Raphael greeted with a small wave. “We are about to head to dinner if you’d like to join us.”

Dean nodded and grinned at him. “Course,” he agreed. “Let me grab some shoes and my coat.”

“It’s actually not that cold tonight!” Balthazar called over Raphael’s shoulder.

“Cool,” Dean muttered. “Just shoes then,” he added. “I’ll meet you guys at the door.”

Raphael turned and shoved Balthazar away from him. “Get off,” he mumbled, though he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. 

Dean chuckled at their antics as he slipped on his shoes. He grabbed his ID and then hurried to the door, shutting it behind him. When he turned, the hallway was empty except for Crowley. “Oh, hey. Did the others go on ahead?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “Is it alright if I walk with you?”

“Sure,” said Dean. “You usually don’t eat in the cafeteria though,” he went on. “Where are you planning to eat tonight?”

Crowley swiped a hand across his forehead, a sheepish grin on his lips. “Well, I was actually going to see if you’d like to come eat dinner with me. At that Italian place down the road?”

“That sounds good. Why not,” Dean told him. “Anyone else coming?” 

“Ah, well,” Crowley started, “I suppose I could invite someone else if you’d like me to.”

Dean shook his head, running a hand down his face. “No, that’s fine. I’m a little burnt out on everyone right now, if I’m being honest. It’s been a long day,” he admitted. “I’m not even really that hungry, but I know I need to eat something.”

Crowley gave him a nod. “I can understand that,” he said. “Look-“

“I mean, I love the other guys, don’t get me wrong,” Dean muttered, shaking his head. “But sometimes they’re just too much, you know? Like they don’t know when to stop.”

Crowley frowned, though he didn’t say anything.

“Sorry,” Dean told him. “I interrupted you.”

Crowley patted Dean’s shoulder, offering him a shrug. “It’s fine. Sometimes we need someone to rant to. Feel free.”

Dean gave him a smile. “Thanks, Crowley. My dad used to always tell me this thing about life. How we have to take everything two steps at a time.”

“Two steps?” Crowley wondered. “Isn’t the saying to take it one step at a time?”

“Yeah, but,” Dean laughed, “I’m not actually sure what it means. I think it’s something I’m supposed to interpret myself.”

Crowley scratched his chin. “And what have you interpreted from this?”

Dean sighed as he held the door open for Crowley. “For the longest time I thought it was about always staying ahead of everyone else.”

“And now?” Crowley wondered.

“Now?” Dean echoed, with a smile. “Now I think I’ve finally figured out the truth about it,” he said.

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Crowley told him. “I think for me it would mean to always look forward, no matter what might be behind you.”

Dean slung his arm around Crowley’s shoulders, hugging the other to his side. “I think that’s really cool, man. Any specific reason?”

Crowley dropped his head and fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. “I didn’t have the best childhood,” he said softly. “But I’m in the college I wanted to be in the most with people that I care for.”

Dean pulled away from him and patted his back. “That’s really cool, Crowley. Glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“You remember that thing my dad used to tell us?” asked Dean.

“What, the two steps thing?” Azazel wondered, sharing a look with Benny.

“Yeah, that thing,” Dean laughed.

“What about it?” Benny wondered. “I always thought it was kind of weird. Isn’t the saying one step at a time?”

“Well, yeah, but I like it better,” Azazel told him. “It’s kind of like, no matter what you’ll always be ahead of the game.”

“No way,” Benny argued back, smacking his arm. “It’s more like, there’s always something more to look forward to.”

“The number two is considered lucky in many cultures,” Raphael spoke up from Benny’s side. “All good things come in pairs,” he added. “I see it as more a signal of good luck.”

Michael scoffed and shoved Raphael aside. “Two is obviously the meaning of teamwork,” he told them. “It’s not a literal two steps. He means you have to have help,” he added. “You can’t do everything by yourself.”

“Actually,” Balthazar said, sipping from his cup of coffee, “two can also be associated with courage.”

“Courage?” Ash questioned. “Oh, like the guardian angel?”

“Precisely,” Balthazar said, pointing at the other. “What about you Crowley?”

“Keep moving forward no matter what’s behind you,” said Crowley. “Simply and easy.”

“Well, what about you, Dean?” Michael wondered. “What do you think about it?”

“Like I told Crowley, I used to think it meant you’d always be ahead of everyone else,” said Dean with a shrug. “But now I know that it’s more than that.”

“Do share,” Raphael prompted.

“Well, if you’re always taking two steps at a time,” Dean started, “then you’ll never fall behind when you get pushed back. So no matter what, you’ll always be one step ahead.”

Crowley let out a low whistle.

“That’s good, Dean,” Benny told him. “I wonder how your dad sees it.”

Dean laughed. “Knowing dad, he probably never thought about it.”

“Knowing your dad,” Azazel said, “he likely thinks the same thing as you.” He stood and stretched his arms out to his sides. “Anyway, I should head out. It’s getting pretty late. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye, Azazel,” called Michael with a wave. 

“Hold the door, I’ll come with you,” Ash called. “Benny, you comin’, man?”

“Yeah, I’ll catch up,” Benny told him. 

“I’ll head out with you,” Crowley spoke up. “Want us to leave the door unlocked, Benny?” He patted Dean’s shoulder on his way to the door.

“It’s fine,” Benny replied. “I’ve got my key.”

They closed the door behind them.

“I’ll head to bed too,” Michael and Balthazar said. “I’m quite knackered,” Balthazar added with a grin. 

“Yep,” Dean agreed. “Same here. Night guys.”

Raphael stood abruptly and cleared his throat. “Dean, may I speak with you a moment?”

“Oooooooh,” Balthazar teased. “Finally gonna admit your giant crush?” he asked.

Benny snorted as Raphael simply turned to stare at the Brit without faltering. “How ever did you know?”

Dean burst into laughter as Balthazar sighed in disappointment.

“You’re no fun, Raphy,” Balthazar whined. “How am I supposed to take the piss properly?” 

“Dean, you mind if I steal a water?” Benny asked. 

“Oh, those are Mike’s,” Dean told him, motioning to Michael.

“Go ahead, Benny,” Michael said. “I’ll come lock the door behind you.”

“Come on, Raph, we can talk in my room,” Dean told him. “That way Balth can’t hear you confess your undying love for me.”

Raphael cracked a smile and shook his head. “I hate to break your heart, Dean.”

“Oh, say it ain’t so,” Dean chuckled as he closed the door behind them. “Anyway, what’s up?”

“It’s about Crowley,” Raphael started.

“Did he say something to you?” Dean wondered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Unfortunately,” Raphael said. “I’m afraid you may be giving him the incorrect impression,” he added.

Dean heaved a sigh and sat back on his bed. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “I was worried about that,” he said roughly. “I’m not trying to do anything or-“

“I know,” Raphael said in a rush. “I just wanted to make you aware. I have known Crowley longer than I’ve let on,” he admitted, crossing his arms. “He gets attached far too easily, I’m afraid.”

“It’s - fine. Mostly,” Dean said. “Well, it’s not, but I’ll figure it out. I’ll do something about it tomorrow.”

Raphael sighed and turned to the door. “I am sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean for this to sour your mood.”

Dean shook his head. “No, it’s fine,” he told him. “Thank you for telling me, Raph. Seriously.” 

Raphael closed the door behind him and Dean collapsed back onto his bed with a sob.


	11. AUTHOR’S NOTE

Heyo all my faithful readers! I have a few announcements about this fic, mostly about why I’ve been neglecting the poor thing. 

First and foremost;  
This fic is currently like my baby. And unfortunately, sometimes babies don’t always cooperate like you want them to. Such is the case with this fic. The first few chapters wrote themselves, and I knew exactly where I wanted to go with the story. Sadly, as we’ve progressed through my plans, I’ve found that the newer chapters fall flat compared to the true message I want to leave behind. Which means I am constantly restarting a chapter because it’s not good enough, or in this case, it doesn’t add anything to my deeper meaning. Which in turn means I am constantly late for my uploading schedule.

Which leads me to my second point;  
I will no longer be updating a certain day every week. Instead, I will keep myself to a much looser schedule of one chapter every two weeks. Meaning I could have one chapter one week, and the other the next. Or, I could have two chapters done in one week. Or (much more likely because of who I am), that means I’ll be waiting until the last possible minute to squeeze out meaningful chapters. 

Third;  
I am currently working on the upcoming chapter! It will have some angst. And I’m not gonna lie, it’s not exactly a happy chapter. I’ve come to realize from my own personal experience dealing with the suicide of a friend that healing is far from linear. It’s been four years for me as well, and I still think about my friend to this day (granted, I knew her for four years rather than a few months like Dean, but it’s still difficult). I’m still healing from the loss of my friend, and it’s not anything to be ashamed about. 

Fourth;  
While this fic doesn’t have a tragic ending like the last one did, the ending won’t be happy either. Again, healing isn’t linear. Dean has a lot of problems after Cas’s death that he refuses to work through. Most of it will start to surface in the upcoming chapter, and Dean will have to figure his shit out before he fucks everything up. This fic is not as tragic overall as the last one either, but it’s not exactly happy. That being said, there are still moments of joy and laughter; as well as moments of agony and heartbreak. Despite that, I am so grateful to you guys for coming on this journey with Dean’s character. He (and myself) greatly appreciate the support.

And finally;  
I am working on a fic for post season 15 of Supernatural!!! Yeah, the series finale was actually something I enjoyed. Except it had a few flaws, therefore I’m hoping to change and improve some things in my fic! It will more than likely be multiple chapters, but I’m not 100% sure on that yet. Either way, I hope you guys enjoy it when I’m able to post it.

Thank you all for reading and supporting me for so long! I am eternally grateful to each and every one of you guys!! I hope all of you that celebrate it had an amazing Christmas! For those of you that do Kwanzaa, I wish you all a wonderful seven days of quality family time! For those that celebrate Boxing Day, I hope you all have fantastic times with your loved ones! And while I did technically miss the timespan that Hanukkah is celebrated, I hope all of you that celebrate that had many days full of joy and comfort!!


	12. September 19th, 2020 (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - anger issues, drinking (not alcohol abuse though), referenced past childhood trauma
> 
> Here is my first chapter after my new update system. I have another week to post the second one, though I have a feeling it’ll only take a few days to get it up. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Bold text is a past conversation

“Hey, man, can I talk to you for a sec?” Dean asked softly, so that the others wouldn’t overhear.

Crowley turned in his seat, a faint flush on his cheeks.

The game of Cards Against Humanity had somehow turned into a drinking game, whereby Dean (rather difficultly) quit and decided to watch instead. Ash had passed out, half on top of Balthazar who was snoring in Benny’s lap. Raphael was currently winning, as he was the most sober, while Azazel had dropped out after he’d almost puked in the sink when he got up to get a snack.

Crowley grinned and nodded, staggering to a stand. “Certainly,” he agreed.

Dean caught Crowley’s arm as he stumbled into him, chuckling like he was far more drunk than he appeared.

Raphael eyed the two with a knowing look, offering Dean a small smile for luck. 

**“You will likely have to talk to him while he is drunk,” Raphael said.**

**Dean frowned at that, shaking his head. “Will he even remember the conversation?”**

**“Certainly,” said Raphael with a nod. “It may be the only way you will be able to speak your true feelings,” he added at Dean’s confused look. “Crowley is awful with feelings. He will do his best to avoid the subject altogether. However, if his guard is down, you will have an easier time speaking with him.”**

**“I dunno,” said Dean, scratching the back of his neck. “It seems like cheating.”**

**“Well,” Raphael said, “you can certainly try. Though, I doubt you will accomplish much.”**

**“How exactly do you even know Crowley?” Dean wondered.**

**Raphael stared at Dean for a long moment, narrowing his eyes before letting out a harsh sigh. “That, my friend, is a rather long and contrite story best saved for another moment,” he finally said. “Whatever you choose, I will applaud your efforts. And I support you.”**

**“Thanks, Raph,” Dean mumbled.**

Crowley leaned against the wall in Dean’s bedroom, grinning. “Was talking just an excuse to get me alone, Dean?” he asked, lecherous.

“Stop,” Dean told him, firm as he closed the door behind him.

Crowley’s smile disappeared as he straightened as best he could. “Sorry, Dean. I’m just - are you alright?”

Dean shook his head, pressing the heel of his hand into an eye. “Look, Crowley. Whatever you think is happening between us - it’s not. I’m - I’m not looking for anything. You’re a nice guy, but I’m not - I just can’t.”

Crowley slumped back against the wall once more, shifting his eyes to the ground. “I know,” he murmured.

“Then why-“

“I haven’t told you, have I?” Crowley shot back, suddenly angry. “I invited you to dinner that one time because you looked down and I thought I’d be able to cheer you up. I know I’m not good enough for you,” he spat.

“No, that’s not what I said,” Dean argued, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.

“You don’t have to say it, Dean,” Crowley admitted roughly. He squeezed his eye closed and lashed his head back and forth. “I know. Because I’m not whoever is still in your heart.”

Dean froze and turned his glare on Crowley’s face. “That’s not - I’m - how did you know?”

Crowley offered him a shrug. “I can tell. I’ve been there,” he said. “I don’t know who they are, but if this person makes you so upset then maybe you should move on. Don’t you think?”

“Shut up,” Dean growled.

“I’m just looking out for you, Dean,” Crowley said. “I don’t want you to keep being hurt like this. You’re my friend, first and foremost.”

“You don’t know anything!” Dean snarled, lunging toward the other boy.

Crowley pressed himself against the wall and raised his hands to shield himself. “I’m sorry!”

Raphael burst into the room and stepped between the two before Dean could get any closer. “That’s enough. Both of you,” he told them. “Go, Crowley. Please.”

Crowley nodded and stumbled back into the living room, shutting the door in a rush behind him.

“Were you listening?” Dean asked harshly, baring his teeth at Raphael.

“Of course not,” Raphael shot back. “I happened to be using the bathroom. I heard raised voices,” he went on. “And I stepped in.”

Dean stepped back and collapsed on his bed, shoulders hunched as his hands trembled from the force of his rage. “He doesn’t understand anything.”

“I know,” Raphael agreed. “Is that his fault? You haven’t told him about your past. How was he to know that it was someone you lost?” He moved to sit beside him, cautious.

Dean scoffed and let his head fall into his hands. “I’m an idiot. I scared the shit out of him, Raph.”

Raphael bumped his shoulder into Dean’s and gave a sigh. “Any anger you showed him would’ve scared him. His childhood was not the best.”

“How do you even know that?” Dean asked through his frustration.

“Because the past three years, he’s been my brother.”


	13. September 19th, 2020 (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - alcohol use, talk of past character death, talk of past childhood trauma and abuse
> 
> We’re going to start to see some of Dean’s anger issues surface here soon guys, so be prepared. This is only the beginning.

“Your brother?”

Raphael chuckled, but gave a nod. “My family adopted him after his parents ... left.”

“But - I don’t understand. Why did you pretend to just meet?” Dean asked, running a hand through his hair roughly. “You even told me that if he was my friend then you were cool with him.”

“We made a deal before college to do things this way,” said Raphael evenly. “The details are far from important. We decided it was for the best. Crowley is not exactly the best when it comes to feelings, as you know. He found it was easiest to make friends when I wasn’t around.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Dean argued. “I mean,” he said, “you’re always around us. And he had no problems being our friend.” He clicked his tongue, eyes narrowed. “And how would you being present affect his ability to make friends? That just sounds stupid.”

Raphael gave a heavy sigh, slightly shaking his head as he turned his eyes to the floor. “I cannot pretend to know Crowley’s motivations. I only assume it was because of his guilt about my mother’s death.”

“Guilt?” Dean wondered. “Why would he be guilty about that?”

“She was on her to pick him up,” Raphael told him. “He was visiting family.”

Dean groaned under his breath and lashed his head. “You said his family left,” he reminded the other.

Raphael clenched a fist. He floundered for something to say (something Dean found insanely unnerving since the man was usually so eloquent). “Yes. They did. Put him up for adoption because his uncle was - he called her from a bus stop payphone.” His shoulders slumped at the memory. “My father was late coming home from work, so my mother went to get him.”

“His parents put him up for adoption?” Dean snarled, fury in his eyes. “Way to make him feel unwanted.”

Raphael quickly shook his head. “Please, don’t say that. They loved him dearly. It was because of their love that they set him away,” he explained. “It is not my story to tell. But I will tell you that it was for the best.”

“Kids should be with their parents,” Dean snapped.

“Not all children have happy lives, Dean,” Raphael finally growled.

Dean flinched. How idiotic could he be?

Just look at Castiel. Azazel. Even Benny had some problems with his father’s anger issues.

_ Not all children have happy lives._

Dean’s stomach flipped and his heart leapt to his tongue, clogging his throat so he could barely breathe. “I - sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Raphael calmed himself in a single moment, eyes shifting uncomfortably around the room. “My apologies, Dean. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. Forgive me.”

“Of course,” Dean said without hesitation. “You’re right,” he added through the gravel on his teeth. Bile rose into his mouth and he was quick to swallow the sour flavor that assaulted his senses.

“My point wasn’t to be right,” said Raphael gruffly. “It was not my intention to make you relive your grief. I only meant that some things cannot be explained so easily.”

Dean offered him a nod. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I’m pretty tired,” he finally said.

“I understand,” Raphael said. “I’ll let you sleep. Have a good night, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, “you too.” He stood and closed the door behind Raphael, heart like steel in his chest.

He turned to his desk and stared at the drawer he kept the journal in, hands itching. With a rough shake of his head, he returned to his bed and threw the covers over himself.

He could still hear everyone in the living room laughing. Enjoying their time together without him.

Dean tossed his head into his pillow a few times, lifting his hands to run them through his hair. It was barely dark outside, and his phone lit up with a text message.

With a soft groan, he reached for his phone.

** Pain in my Ass: Hey, Dean! How’s your weekend going so far?**

Dean couldn’t help but smile at Sam’s innocent question.

** Me: Heya Sammy pretty good but lots of homework to get done how about yours**

** Pain in my Ass: Same here, unfortunately. I’m almost done, though, so that’s good. Are you coming home next weekend? **

** Me: Hopefully but not sure yet **

Dean plugged his charger into the phone with a sigh.

** Pain in my Ass: Well, let me know when you’re able. I’m about headed to bed, it’s been a long week. Talk tomorrow? **

** Me: Fpr sure Sammy sounds good hope you get some good sleep **

Dean shut his phone off and laid back on the bed. A knock at the door shook him from his restless slumber. “Yeah?” he called.

“I’m coming in.”

Dean would recognize Azazel’s voice anywhere. “Yeah,” he agreed.

Azazel shut the door behind him, resting heavily against it with bleary eyes. “Heard yelling earlier. E’rything good?” 

Dean barely contained his laugh at Azazel’s slurring. “Yeah,” he said once again as he sat up. “Just Crowley had to... I’m sure you know.”

“Hmm,” hummed Azazel with a sluggish nod. “S’rough,” he said. He stumbled to Dean’s bed and sat beside him. “Raph sheemed upset. Jus’ wan’ed t’check on you. Make sure you’re alright.”

“Are you?” Dean wondered, suddenly worried. Azazel hardly ever sought him out on his own, preferring to text over anything.

Azazel offered Dean a clumsy shrug and turned to him slowly. “No,” he contradicted his actions with a grim tone. “M’dad tried to call me.”

“Shit,” breathed Dean. “Are you alright?”

Again, Azazel shrugged. “Dunno,” he admitted softly. “I feel fine. Prob’ly feel like shit tomorrow though. Besides jus’ a hangover.”

“Well, I’ll be there if you need me,” Dean told him easily.

Azazel gave him a hum and slumped back against the mattress. “Can I sleep here?”

Dean chuckled and tossed him a pillow. “No problem,” he said. “They done in there?”

“Mos’ly,” said Azazel. “Headin’ out,” he added. “M’too tired.”

“No worries, man,” Dean told him. “Get some sleep, man. You want a blanket?”

Azazel shook his head and smacked his lips a few times, settling in to sleep in a few minutes.

Dean watched him for a short moment before sinking down beside him and closing his eyes to sleep.


	14. September 20th, 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo it’s definitely been WAY longer than two weeks. Unfortunately I’ve been going through some major shitty life changes and I’m trying to work those out. I finally got this chapter up to the caliber I wanted it.  
> In this chapter, the italicized writing is voicemails.
> 
> TW - referenced character death; anger issues; language

“Azazel? You good?”

Azazel was pacing in Dean’s room, startled by the sudden voice as he turned to him with a frantic look in his eye. “How long has it been since you’ve checked your phone?”

Dean sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “I dunno. I texted Sam last night around 11,” he said. “Why?”

“Check your messages,” Azazel countered roughly. Insistent as Dean grabbed for his phone.

“What - why do I have so many missed calls? What’s going on, dude?” Dean wondered, pulling up the voicemails he had received.

_ Hey, Dean, it’s dad. Uh - this isn’t easy to say, but - it’s Amelia. She’s - she’s in the hospital, son. _

Dean felt his heart shatter as the next message played.

_ Hey, Dean. I know you’re probably asleep right now, but Cas’s mom is really sick, I think. I don’t know the whole story - mom and dad refuse to tell me. But I think it’s really serious, De. _

Sam’s voice sounded so distant and small.

Finally, the third and final message from Amelia herself.

_ Dean? Please don’t worry about me -  _ her speech cut off with a rough cough that sounded more like a seal’s bark _- it’s fine. I’m already getting treatment, alright? No need to worry. Please don’t worry. I need you to be strong. You are so, so strong, Dean Winchester._

The message ended and Dean turned to see Azazel staring at him with tears in his eyes. “It wasn’t my dad that called me.”

“What?”

“It was his number, sure,” Azazel told him. “But the message that was left - it wasn’t him, Dean,” he went on, voice shaking. “I’m not sure how, but I think - I think it was Castiel.”

“He’s gone,” Dean snapped through the bitter taste in his throat.

Azazel swallowed thickly and gave him a nod, but quickly narrowed his eyes and scowled. “You think I don’t know that?” he snarled. “I’m telling you, I heard Cas’s voice, clear as day telling me to make you check your phone.”

Dean stormed toward the door, fury rolling from his mind. Azazel was quick to intercept him, eyes wide.

“Get out of the way,” Dean said, low in his throat.

“No way. Not before you tell me what you’re going to do,” Azazel argued. “Let me help you, Dean. Please?”

Dean narrowed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and balled his hands into tight fists until red danced in his vision. “I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help! I am not helpless!”

“I never said you were, man,” Azazel quickly said, taking a slight step back. “You have to think about this rationally. We have classes tomorrow.”

Dean scoffed. “You think I give a rat’s ass about classes right now? What matters right now is being there for her!”

“Why?” Azazel wondered, disbelief in every word. “Why do you care so much? She wasn’t even there for him!”

“Don’t say that!” Dean roared, shoving Azazel back until the other hit the wall with a breathless gasp. “She did her fucking best, dammit!”

“What’s going on in here?” Raphael asked as he and Michael stormed through the door.

“Don’t worry, it-“

“Get the fuck out! None of this concerns you one bit!” Dean snarled turning his white-hot rage toward them.

“Dean, stop,” Azazel called, voice even despite the evident terror on his face. “It’s fine, alright?”

“Don’t patronize me, you sly fucker,” Dean snapped. “I’m not a fucking child.”

“I’m not - I never said you were a child.”

“Sure are acting like one, though,” Michael quipped, still unaware of the full weight of the situation.

“You fucking idiot,” murmured Raphael. He turned and pushed Michael away as Dean lunged for the man and Azazel roughly snatched at his arms to hold him back.

“Get out, I’ll handle this!” Azazel ordered sharply, eyes blazing with fear and anguish.

“Get off o’ me!”

Raphael leapt back, tears in his eyes at the agony in Dean’s voice. What had caused such emotion from his cheerful friend?

“Stop, Dean, stop!” Azazel pleaded as his grip tore bleeding grooves into Dean’s flesh, his nails digging into sensitive skin.

Dean wailed, excruciating, as the last dregs of his strength ebbed away and his trembling legs collapsed beneath him.

Someone was pounding on the front door, though Azazel was sure it was Benny, coming with the same message that Castiel had left him.

“Dean!? Please, someone let me in!” Benny screamed as he slammed his fist again and again into the door.

Not a moment later, he was rushing to help Azazel comfort Dean in his distraught state, though his head throbbed and his eyes were dry.

They could vaguely hear Balthazar wondering what the hell was going on as Raphael pulled him and Michael from the dorm. 


End file.
